


Get Free

by tinabelcher



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Not Beta Read, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 16:41:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinabelcher/pseuds/tinabelcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post S8E23. Castiel is human and on his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Suitcase

**Author's Note:**

> This is a total work in progress and mostly me just messing around in the sandbox. Haven't gotten much of a chance to do any editing but I figured posting it would get me motivated to keep working.
> 
> Each "chapter" is super short. Expect that to change as I work on it.

**Get Free**

**Part I: The Suitcase**

He bought it on clearance at a Sears in the mall. The sign said it was the standard “carry on” size. He didn’t know what that meant exactly. An exhausted saleswoman at the end of her shift tried to hide her exasperation as she explained. She had never flown anyway but guessed that it made sense for small trips to just take your luggage on the plane with you rather than let those idiot airlines lose it somewhere in Albuquerque. Castiel assured her he wouldn’t be doing any flying but the small case would do anyway. He thanked her for her help and apologized for his lack of knowledge. “But you’ve been so helpful. Thank you, I can see that you are tired.” This made her smile. “Alright, let’s get you rung up.” $25 plus tax. Just almost everything that he had left. He hadn’t budgeted very well.

It turned out that “carry on” also meant that he could bring the case on the bus with him, stow it overhead, rather than check it. This was some reassurance. Castiel didn’t have many things to put in the case, the case now being his most expensive possession and he’d hate for it to get lost in Albuquerque. The case was dark blue with grey lining and lots of zippers and pockets. He slid his ticket to Pensacola into the front pocket. Pensacola was as far as he could afford on the cash he had made washing dishes, cleaning counters and taking out the garbage at Lucy’s Diner.

Castiel met Lucy herself at a laundromat just off the beach in Jupiter near where he had landed. Lucy opened the diner in 1972 and she told Castiel she sure could use some help. He wasn’t so naive to not realize she just wanted to help him out. She’d seen him “borrowing” some fresh clothes at the laundromat. She didn’t get him trouble, but she did follow him in her car and offer him dinner and a place to sleep. The diner had a little back office with a cot.

He wasn’t sure why she would help him though she said “You look like a nice enough guy.” “I have a blood on my clothes,” he replied. “Well, shit happens.” She lit a virginia slim and didn’t talk for the rest of the drive. Castiel washed up and settled into the cot that would become his home for the next few weeks to sleep. His dreams were unsettling and he didn’t take well to the act of sleeping. But he woke in the morning to the sound of dishes clanging and the smell of coffee. It felt a comfort and within a week he found a routine and could make it through a night only waking two or three times.

As he slid the ticket into the case he felt a bulge in a little inner liner pocket. Inside was an enveloped with “Cas” in lovely script on the front. Lucy never did question why he asked to be called Cas despite his driver’s license saying Jimmy Novak. (Nor did she question when he said he couldn’t drive.) “Everybody deserves at least one do over, honey.”  The envelope held $100 cash and a note; This should help you get to your friend. Love, Lucy. The only thing that had missing when Castiel woke up in that field was his cell phone and Dean’s number.  Angel Castiel would have just remembered the number. Human Castiel couldn’t even recall the area code.  He tucked the $50 in his wallet and leaned against the window to nap.

 


	2. Not All Who Wander Are Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is working on his "people skills."
> 
> I should probably warn that there is non-graphic m/f sex.

**Get Free**

**Part II: “Not all who wander are lost.”**

They called it The Big Easy and so it was. Much easier than Jacksonville had been anyway. Castiel was only off the bus an hour when he found himself a job barbacking in a busy pub off Bourbon street. It paid cash, “under the table,” which as far as he understood it meant that no one asks any questions. The town was also ripe with gossip and secrets from the other side of things. The angels had fallen. Demons expelled from Hell. Those were the big ones, the ones people, hunters, only sort of believed. They’d all seen it that night, but it seemed too much, even for those working the job. But everyone was sure the Winchesters were involved, though no one knew where they were.

Castiel knew. That was where he was going. Or where he meant to be. It had been a month or so since The Fall and he still had not made it to the Men of Letters bunker. He knew they would be there. But he just couldn’t get himself there. He had definitely earned enough money for the bus. Heck, he could afford to fly at this point. And yet, he still hadn’t bought the ticket. He kept thinking he should write; let Dean know that he is ok and that he is on his way. But, he wasn’t ready for Dean to see him this way yet. Or Sam. Or anyone he knew. He still wasn’t used to it himself.

He found he was enjoying his solitude. And his work. It wasn’t much of anything. Cleaning tables. Wiping bar stools. Karting liquor around. He’d learned a lot about beer taps. That part might impress Dean.  He’d met people, but he hadn’t connected with anyone. That was on purpose. Being human was exhausting. Everything required so much energy and purpose. He felt so heavy and weighted to the Earth. Some days it was difficult to get out of bed. Other days he just didn’t. He didn’t know what he was afraid of. Despite things Dean has said in the past, he would not judge him for this. He would help him. Sam would help him. He had a place to go. A place that could be a home. They would help him get to Metatron. They would help him get his grace back.  And yet still.....here he was.

On the days he could drag himself from bed, he tried to go about being human as much as he could. It never ended. Constant cleaning, straightening, chores, errands, working, money, bills. How did any of them do it? His muscles ached. His hair was a disheveled mess. His facial hair became problematic at best. Missy, one of the regulars at the bar, pulled him aside one night; “Honey, it is startin’ to look like something up and died on your face.”  Castiel felt his cheeks flush. Embarrassment. “Oh no no, don’t be embarrassed! We all have our days. Let me cut your hair for you, get you a nice shave. Come by my salon; I give a local’s discount. Ok?”  He nodded and she handed him her card.

It took him three days but he worked up the nerve to go see her. She sat him down and cleaned him up. He couldn’t believe what a boost it was. He didn’t think appearances should matter. “hahah You’re sweet.”  He was her last appointment so she closed up and pulled out a bottle of wine. He didn’t know what to do at first but she liked to chat and that put him at ease. Soon, he was rambling away about things; as much as he could.  They talked and drank for hours on the couch in her break room. She was relaxing and smart and every now and then she would touch him lightly on the hand or shoulder. He liked it, it made his skin tingle, and then he caught himself doing the same to her.

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. Castiel felt himself move away a bit and he touched his lips with his fingers. “I..am not sure...” What do you say? I know that I look roughly 40 years old and actually I’m closer to several million in the purest sense but that was only my second kiss in my life and the first was with a demon. “Yeah, that’s sort of what I thought. There’s someone, right? Your friend? We’ve all got someone somewhere. But sometimes you just need a friend that’s here.”  A flash of sadness in her eyes and then she was up off the couch. “Well, maybe not tonight, huh?” “Maybe not,” he replied. But this was the best he had been in weeks and he was more than a bit drunk, so he pulled her back to the couch anyway. He felt fumbly and out of place, but she didn’t let on if she knew how inexperienced he was. As he was getting dressed to leave, he remembered talk at the bar of first times. It’s amazing and terrible all at once and mostly you’re just sort of relieved to have gotten it out of the way. It all made sense now. Past that, he had no idea what he was feeling. “Do I, should I call you later?” Is that how this worked? Missy laughed. “No, baby, we’re not going steady. Just friends, is that alright?”  It almost felt disappointing. But the tug at the back of his heart told him this wasn’t what he wanted.

Castiel walked home briskly, ready to crawl back into his bed, ready to pack his suitcase and run, ready to call Dean, ready to wade into the Mississippi and never come back out. He stumbled up the steps and into his dingy one room apartment. He tried to shower himself sober in the shared bathroom down the hall. It didn’t work. He fell onto the hard twin mattress creaking the ancient bed frame and drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later a noise startled him awake. Someone was in the room. He could hear bottles clinking in the mini fridge. But, it was pitch black and he couldn’t see anything. Which meant neither could whoever broke in. He rolled over slowly and grabbed the bat from under the bed. The bed creaked though and he heard a chuckle from the other side of his small room. He jumped up, bat in hand ready to strike and flicked on the lightswitch.

There, leaning against the sink and casually sipping a beer was Dean Winchester. “Nice digs, Cas. But, you’re out of beer.”

  
  



	3. Two Eggs Scrambled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean shows up with questions.

**Get Free**

**Part III: Two eggs scrambled**

Castiel watched the Impala as she turned the corner at the end of the street and disappeared. Dean pack up shortly after breakfast despite Castiel’s insistence that he stay and rest. But Dean had sworn he’d gotten in a few hours at a rest stop out of town. Castiel rambled up his stairs and settled back into bed. It was 3am when Dean woke him and 10 am when he left. Well, it went better than expected, he murmured to himself as he drifted to sleep. One hour later he woke to his phone vibrating. A text from Dean. Already. “I should’ve gotten pie at that diner! Maybe next time.”  Castiel chuckled to himself. Bzzz bzzz “Think about what I said.” Castiel smirked and typed back “Stop texting and driving jerk.”  He hoped that would make Dean laugh.

He sure wasn’t laughing when he found him in his apartment last night. Castiel wanted to grab him and hug him but he was frozen in place. Dean seemed to be as well. Castiel waited for the yelling to start but it didn’t. “I’m not going to yell.” Dean deadpanned as if reading his mind. “I just wanted to see that you were ok.” He paused. “Are you? … ok?” Castiel crossed the room and grabbed a plastic cup from the dishrack on the counter. “Yeah, he said,” filling his glass with tap water, “I’m fine...I could use a shower right now...but I’m fine.” He drank the water slowly buying for time while he figured out what to say next. “Dean, I wasn’t hiding from you or anything...I just..” But Dean interrupted. “No, I know. I mean, I don’t know, but I get it. I guess. And I know you can’t teleport. None of the fallen can apparently and I’ve got your phone so....”

Fallen can’t teleport? Castiel thought about this for a few long seconds and realized Dean didn’t know he hadn’t fallen. So, of course, he asked the important question. “How did you get my phone?” He rolled his eyes at himself as it came out of his mouth. “I’m assuming Metatron. It just landed in front of us that night. There, uh, was a note attached, said ‘Guess you’ll need to find a new pet.’ I thought...well I thought you were dead. But, then you’d be in heaven with Metatron and I figured that douche knew better.” He really doesn’t know.

“That still doesn’t explain how you found me.” “I’m Dean Winchester. I can find anyone.” Castiel cocked his head to the left and squinted a bit. “Ok, ok, Charlie found you. Facial recognition software or something that got a hit in Jacksonville. When I saw you left there I thought you were coming to the bunker. But you stalled out here so I came to check on you.” Dean pushed himself off the sink and walked the room to sit on the bed so they were across from each other again. He took a deep breath. “Look, man, I did come here to yell. But I did a lot of thinking on the drive and the yelling kinda made me my dad and that made you like Sam and then it got kinda weird there so I started thinking hey...” “Dean,” Castiel interrupted. “I didn’t fall.”

Dean looked at him blankly. “What?! What do you mean? You’ve been mojo’d up this whole time and you didn’t tell me!?” There’s the yelling. “No, Dean...Dean...calm down.” He put his hands up to gesture for quiet and took a deep breath as Dean paced the room and glared. “I didn’t fall like the others. Metatron took my grace. All of it. I, uh, I’m a baby in a trenchcoat, Dean.”  He waited while the full meaning of what he said took hold in Dean’s mind. Dean’s shoulders slumped and he sat back down on the bed. “Oh man. Cas.” Dean put his face in his palms and took a deep breath. And that was Castiel’s breaking point. He had really handled all of this quite well he thought. He’d kept it together. Did what he needed to do to survive. Adjusted to his new life. But, now, saying it out loud, saying it out loud to Dean, that was it. His knees gave out a bit and he slumped down and sat on the floor and started to cry.

Dean just let it happen for a bit and then walked over and sat next to him. “Ok, I uh, I’m not, uh sure what to do here. He put an arm around Castiel’s and pulled him in. “This is really more of a Sam area.” He said while patting Castiel’s shoulder methodically.   “I’m sorry.” Castiel muffle sobbed into Dean’s shoulder. “No, it’s ok. It’s ok Cas. Get it all out now cause I’m gonna need you to nut up in a minute and tell me what the crap is going on.” Castiel burst out laughing and wiped the tears from his face. “You’re terrible, Dean.” “Yeah, I’m the worst. Tell me what happened.”

They sat there on the floor until the sun came up and then some talking about everything. Angels, demons, obligations. Dean argued about the “good fight” and tried to get Castiel to come back with him. But, by the time they got to his favorite diner for breakfast, he had come to understand Castiel’s reluctance. As Dean was getting into the car he tried one last time. “The thing is, I do need you. We all need you on this one. I get it, the needing time thing. You just don’t have to be alone.”  And then he was gone. Castiel regretted staying immediately but he wasn’t going to admit it. Not yet, anyway.

 

 

  
  



	4. All I Need's Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean discuss the Cas situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't even read over this yet. Please excuse typos, terribleness, etc.

**Get Free:**

**Part IV: All I Need’s Relief**

Sam was not the biggest fan of the “Leave Cas Be” plan. He hadn’t really said as much but He’d been brooding all over the bunker for a few days now. He brooded in the library. He brooded in the control room. He even managed to brood through a few rounds in the shooting gallery. “Ok, Sam. Just say it. Lay it on me. Seriously.” Dean couldn’t take the passive aggressiveness anymore and gave in. He pulled up a chair next to Sam and his computer and waited. Sam let out a big sigh but kept typing. Sam was digitizing their journals from the past few years. Typing up any and all notes on all the bump in the nights they’d met over the past few years.

And he kept doing so for the next five minutes while Dean sat. He typed, he checked notes, he flipped pages, he typed. Dean was already getting antsy and prepared to pull out some of his most annoying tactics, including humming all of Metallica’s Black album if necessary but before he could get a bar out Sam stopped typing and closed his laptop. He took a deep breath and started slowly.

“I just don’t totally understand the letting Cas off the hook thing.”

“Off the hook? This wasn’t his fault.”

“Dean, just let me finish.”

“Ohhk.”

“I don’t get why Cas gets to do what he wants and doesn’t have to ‘fight the good fight’ with us here.”

“I feel like there’s more.”

Sam made a face. THAT face. The bitch face. This definitely ran deeper than he was letting on.

“Dean, It’s just that I couldn’t stay out there living my life, doing what I wanted. I had to come back. You dragged me back into it…twice! But Cas you let off the hook. And I don’t get it, man. I don’t.”

Sam leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, a signal for Dean to begin explaining. Dean took a minute to pull his thoughts together. “Well, for starters, Cas has never had a life.” “I’d never had a life either, Dean!” Sam interrupted, shooting forward in his seat. “No, no. This is different, Sam. He has literally never been alive, as a human.” Sam leaned back and re-crossed his arms. “He was sort of a mess. Not, totally, but sort of. He cried and there was snot and it was gross. And that made him cry more. He’s had to….you know human stuff…. he had to take a shit! And puke! And I’m pretty sure he got laid. And he’s freaking out. Sam, I think he’s embarrassed to do all of that in front of us. He feels like he’s useless to us. He just wanted some time.”  

“He got laid?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure. But he was kind of sob talking..? It was hard to make it all out.”  

Sam smirked at that a bit.

“He just needs to figure some shit out. I’m not going to let him stay out there alone for the rest of his life. Ok?” Dean waited.

“Ok.”

“We good?”

“We’re good.”

  
  



End file.
